


Good Men Porn (At Macedon and Monmouth Both)

by ICryYouMercy (TrafalgarsLaw)



Category: Henry V - Shakespeare
Genre: Gen, but so can hal which eventually makes them about even, fluellen can be a right prick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 03:38:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12050505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrafalgarsLaw/pseuds/ICryYouMercy
Summary: Hal might want to learn about being Welsh. Fluellen wants him to learn about something entirely different first.





	Good Men Porn (At Macedon and Monmouth Both)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gentle_herald](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gentle_herald/gifts).



Hal was not a man suited to regrets. But after battles fought and won, and after establishing some kind of tentative, tenous peace, he could not help but wonder.

It was easy, being an English king. Or as easy as being a king ever was. A heritage traced cleanly from Lionheart himself, neither language not schooling hindering his claim, none of his parentage tainted by the harsh and rough language and culture of the western coast.

And yet, the man Fluellen had stood proud and tall in front of his king, in front of lords and generals and men of far higher rank than he; had even dared extending the curious and doubtful honor to his king. Hal hadn't know whether to feel embarrassed or angry, and hadn't entirely managed to silence the timid though persistent voice suggesting that he, too, should be proud.

Proud to be accepted into the heritage and culture this currious lowborn officer had offered him. It was anathema to everything he knew about himself, about his forefathers, about everything. And yet. And yet.

  
***

  
But between ending the war, and getting married, and returning home, there had been moments upon moments, quiet and boring and drawn-out, where a king had no business and no say, and nothing to do but follow along, stay where he was put, and not interfere when the laywers and priests talked.

He had not intended to talk to his soldiers any more than necessary, especially not now that their war was over, but there were few others to talk to, and their peace was fickle and weak yet, and none knew better how to deal than soldiers who'd been called back to duty after duty was done once too often.

He encountered the man quite by accident, while observing a company of archers at their daily drills. There was no earthly reason why a Welshman would be anywhere near the king's longbowmen, but there he stood, talking to an English captain, and looking quite comfortable given how far out of place he was.

There was no proper way to approach a captain outside of war or properly arranged social functions, so Hal simply walked closer, ignoring the muddy ground and the confused glances.  
He neither extended a hand nor offered a bow, trying to keep a distance befitting his station.

"Captain Gower," he said.

The Captain grew visibly tense, and returned Hal's lack of greeting equally. "Your Majesty."

Hal turned to the other man. "Captain Fluellen," he said, resisting the desire to bow his head or hunch his shoulders under the man's steady gaze.

Silence followed.

  
***

  
It was almost a week later when Hal encountered the man again, again in the company of Captain Gower.

This time, Hal stopped to think before approaching them. There was protocol to say who he would greet first, but just the same, there was a timid voice in the back of his mind saying that protocol would mean little to Captain Gower, and less still to Captain Fluellen.

Still, there was protocol. He kept his back straight and his head up as he approached the men.

He didn't bow, not exactly, and didn't exactly incline his head in greeting, but court had been a good teacher in sublte movements, and lowering his gaze just the slightest bit, along with relaxing his for the moment it took would serve to still convey the motion of it. It would do.

Captain Gower, at least seemed to think it did. "Your Majesty."

"Captains," Hal replied, careful this time not to place the man Fluellen last.

Fluellen, his gaze calm and even, noded in greeting.

Hal was prepared to count it as a victory.

 

***

  
The next time Hal came across the Captains, he was prepared. Or at least, he thought he was.

He did incline his head in greeting. "Captain Fluellen, Captain Gower."

"Your Majesty," Captain Gower replied, perfectly even, and apparently careless about both being named second in greeting, and the having to face the king yet a third time in not three week's time.

Captain Fluellen gave Hal a look, no much different from his usual steady gaze, but this time, there was a certain hesitation, almost curiosity in it, too. "Syr Harri," he offered, more acknoledgement than greeting. His voice was rough around the long, just slightly unfamiliar vowels.

Hal knew an insult when he heard it. Still, he knew he simply had to try again.

  
***

  
It was several weeks before he encountered either of the Captains again, this time back on English soil. If we has entirely honest with himself, the meeting was not as random as he tried his hardest to make it appear, but he was the king, after all. There were some liberties this must allow him to take.

Still, when he stood before them, he felt rather more nervous than he could properly justify. He had prepared for this, and prepared well. He nodded at them, more sharply than seemed entirely relaxed. "Captain Gower, Captain Llewellyn."

"Your Majesty," Gower replied, the slightest of smiles playing around his lips.

"That is not my name," Fluellen said.

Gower's smile grew.

"Pardon?"

"That is not my name," Fluellen repeated.

"But, but I thought, I read," Hal stuttered.

"You thought wrong."

"A man's name is only ever what he is willing to give you," Gower said, quietly, smile still in place. "Not what you might find in the records, were you rude enough to look."

But I'm the king, Hal wanted to say. I'm allowed to look. I'm allowed to know.

Gower's smile was implacable, and Hal bit his tongue.

 

***

  
It took quite some effort to run into them again in a suitably informal setting, but Hal was determined.

"Captains," he greeted, and then, after a seconds hesitation, "I fear I have never properly asked your names."

"Thomas Gower, at your service," Gower said, with the slightest of bows.

Fluellen didn't bother with bowing. He met Hal's gaze squarely. "Gruffydd ap Llewelyn ap Catrin ferch Gruffydd ap Dafydd ap Llewelyn ap Gwillym ap Hywel ap Einon Fychan." He smiled.

  
***

  
Hal had gone back to the records, and had written down the name. Then, he had spoken to the record keeper, and had written down, very carefully and thoroughly, its proper pronounciation and stresses. He had practiced, whenever he got a moment's time to himself.

Captain Fluellen had issued him a challenge, and Hal was not going to back down.

For once, he didn't need to accidentally arrange a meeting. He felt nowhere near prepared, but there was nothing to be done.

"Captain Llewellyn, Captain Gower," he greeted, bowing slightly.

"Your Majesty," Gower replied, no longer even trying to hide his amusement.

"That is still not my name," Fluellen replied.  
Hal had practiced for this. "Gruffydd ap Llewelyn ap Catrin ferch Gruffydd ap Dafydd ap Llewelyn ap Gwillym ap Hywel ap Einon Fychan."

Fluellen nodded. "That is what people call me if I have offended them. And yet, I think that when one plays tricks on an honest man, it is the honest man who is right to be offended, and not the one to play such tricks."

  
***

  
The next meeting with the Captains, Hal eagerly awaited. He might still not be entirely certain how he felt about the curious honour Captain Fluellen had offered him as a fellow Welshman, but at least now he knew how to get answers once he could think of the right questions.

This time, when he met them, he didn't resist the inclination to bow his head under Fluellen's steady gaze. "Captain Llewellyn, I most humbly beg your forgiveness on the matter of the misplaced glove."

Gower's smile, when Hal looked up, was almost pleased.$

Fluellen, though, simply nodded his head in greeting. "Your Majesty."

**Author's Note:**

> I've shamelessly borrowed Fluellen's full name from Lilliburlero's awesome fic [A Welsh Correction](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1066242)  
> also, somehow neither hal nor fluellen felt much inclined towards conversation, which is zero surprising now that i think about it...


End file.
